


I'm Mr. Brightside

by tabbytabbytabby



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Bodyguard Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Concerts, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Kidnapped Jaskier | Dandelion, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Musician Jaskier | Dandelion, Pining, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Stalking, Tour Bus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22822477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabbytabbytabby/pseuds/tabbytabbytabby
Summary: Everything is Jaskier's life seems to be going great. His career as a musician has been soaring lately. He's about to go on his first co-headlining tour with Yennefer. Things are perfect. At least until he comes home to find his place trashed and covered with pictures of himself. Fearing for his safety, his manager Ciri insists on hiring a bodyguard. That's how he meets Geralt, his sworn protector, and the two set out on a tour that changes things for the both of them.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 42
Kudos: 459





	I'm Mr. Brightside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ithinkwehaveanemergency](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithinkwehaveanemergency/gifts), [LovelyLittleGrim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLittleGrim/gifts).



> This is for Adri and Amanda, who both inspired this, and who this fic probably wouldn't exist without. It didn't quite get to the 18K Adri predicted, but it's close and longer than I set out to write. Thank you both for being amazing and your excitement for this fic. It's the only reason it got done.
> 
> There is a playlist that can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/1219862684/playlist/4I0sPJAJQHbDNSdGFrY0o2?si=VLpgvKzNQB600M0RR8C-Dw) with songs that were used in the fic, and ones I pictured Jaskier performing on tour. It was my soundtrack while writing this.

There may have been a point in time where Jaskier's life was normal. But that was long ago. Back before he decided his dream was to be a musician and he wanted to make a name for himself. 

Something that he's done, and he's damn proud of it. Unfortunately that fame comes with a price. 

It only took walking into his apartment one night to find out trashed and covered with pictures of himself to realize just how out of control things had gotten. 

It's not his first encounter with overly enthusiastic fans. He's gotten his fair share of questionable fan mail. But this is the first time he starts to question how safe he is. 

Needless to say he does not spend the night in his apartment. After calling the police and having them search the place, he shows up at his manager’s house, with a sheepish smile and bag in hand. She pulls him inside with a familiar roll of her eyes.

"What is it this time, Jaskier?"

"Ciri, always nice to see you too."

He tries for his usual light tone, but there's a slight edge to it. Something Ciri doesn't miss. "What's going on?"

"Someone broke into my apartment and left a bunch of pictures of me everywhere? Like of places I've been. I think I might have a stalker?"

"Jesus Christ," Ciri mutters. "Did you call the cops?"

"Of course I did," he tells her. "They were still there when I left. We all decided it would be better if I didn't stay at my apartment. They have a police escort watching the house."

"Good," Ciri says. She pulls out her phone and starts typing something. "That'll have to work until the morning."

"What's happening in the morning?"

"Well you're obviously moving," she says. "And getting a full time bodyguard."

"Oh come on…"

"No arguments, Jaskier," she says. "If you have a stalker, you need protection. And I happen to know just the person."

"Why don't I like that look?"

Ciri ignores his question. "You know where everything is."

"Ciri…"

"I'll see you in the morning," Ciri says. She grins and turns away, leaving Jaskier standing alone in her living room. 

He looks around the empty house and sighs to himself. "Now what?" 

He knows he should try and sleep, but after the events of tonight he's not sure that's going to happen. There's an uneasy feeling crawling beneath his skin. One that's been there ever since he started receiving the over the top letters if he's being honest with himself. 

Something he really doesn't want to do right now. He just wants to forget for a little while. 

He grabs his bag and a water out of the fridge and heads down the hall to the guest room. He changes for bed, even if it's just so that he's in something more comfortable, and turns on the TV, bringing up Netflix. 

He might not be sleeping, but he can at least distract himself for a few hours.

* * *

He wakes early, or at least earlier than he's used to. He doesn't do well with mornings. But after getting next to no sleep, he gives up when the sun starts pouring into his window. 

There's no point in prolonging the inevitable. At least if he gets up he can make coffee. Which is exactly what he does. He gets it started and hops into the shower while it's brewing, hoping the warm water will make him feel a little better. 

He hears movement in the living room when he steps out and assumes it's just Ciri. She's always been an earlier riser than he is. 

He barely glances into the room, his only focus on the pot of freshly brewed coffee. He pours himself a cup, adds some cream and sugar, and sighs as the delicious scent reaches his nose. 

"I love you."

There's a snort from across the room that has Jaskier reluctantly looking away from his cup. He freezes, cup of coffee midway to his lips, and stares. He's pretty sure he's never seen anyone like the man that just walked into Ciri's kitchen. He's in a pair of black slacks and a grey button up with a tie. Which would look normal on anyone else. Except this man has long, shockingly white hair. 

Jaskier is hit with the sudden urge to touch it. He takes a sip of his coffee to keep himself in check. 

"This is Geralt," Ciri says. "Geralt, this is Jaskier."

Jaskier smirks. "No doubt you've heard of me…"

"No."

"Forgive me if I'm not up for signing autographs… wait, what? You've never heard of me?"

"No."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"But, how? Don't you listen to the radio?"

"No."

"Do you _like_ music?"

"Yes."

"Can you say anything other than yes or no?"

Geralt tilts his head, studying Jaskier for a moment, before turning to Ciri. "I can see why someone wants to kill him."

"No one wants to kill me," Jaskier exclaims. "Someone is _obsessed_ with me."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"Where did you find this guy?" Jaskier asks Ciri.

"He's an old family friend," Ciri replies. "He's good at his job. If anyone can keep you safe, it's him."

"Why help me?" Jaskier turns his question to Geralt. "What's in it for you?"

"Need the money," Geralt replies to the same flat tone. "I don't get paid if you're dead."

"Well at least he's honest," Jaskier says. "I like being alive. I have a co-headlining tour coming up that I'm not about to miss so… you're hired."

"Great."

"I know I'm supposed to encourage you to tour as your manager, but are you sure it's a good idea with someone threatening your life?" Ciri questions. 

"No one has threatened me."

"Yet," Geralt adds. 

Jaskier ignores him. "I'm not going to miss going on my first world headlining tour because someone is obsessed with me, okay? This is my career, Ciri."

She sighs. "I know."

"And I'm not just going to lock myself away," Jaskier continues. "I have to live my life."

"Fine," Ciri says. "But you're not going anywhere alone, with anyone but Geralt. Until this person is caught, we can't trust anyone."

Jaskier looks at Geralt with a grin. "Looks like we're going to be spending a lot of time with each other, Geralt."

The reply comes flatly, as expected. "Great."

Jaskier isn't put off by it. It just makes him more determined to get under the man's skin. "We're going to be friends, you'll see."

"I'm not your friend, I'm your bodyguard."

"We'll see about that."

Geralt doesn't even blink. He just stares. Jaskier doesn't let himself be deterred. "I need to finalize my set list. Do either of you have any suggestions?"

"I said I'd never listened to your music," Geralt replies. 

"Never fear, my friend. That is going to be remedied once the tour starts. I'll make a fan of you yet."

"Doubtful."

"He really is very talented," Ciri says. "You know you have to play _Vindicated_."

"Of course," Jaskier nods and pulls up the notes app on his phone. The song is already on there. "It's the reason I'm where I am. Maybe not presently…"

"I wouldn't be so sure," Ciri muses. "No doubt your stalker is a fan."

"Well at least they have good taste, even if they are creepy." He knows he's making light of the situation, but it's the only way to keep him calm and not freaking out. If he freaks out he's never going to get through this. And he's not about to give up his shot. Not when he's worked so hard to get here. 

" _My Body Is A Cage_ ," Jaskier mutters to himself. "That has to be on there."

"And _Stolen_ ," Ciri suggests. "Make all the girls and guys swoon."

"I can't believe I'm going to say this, but that's not my priority right now."

"It should be if you want to keep selling out shows," Ciri tells him. "Or are you relying on Yennefer to do that?"

"Please, we know I'm the one that's bringing in the fans," Jaskier says. "I don't need cheap tricks to do it."

He still adds _Stolen_ to his list. Only because it's a good song, and not for any other reason.

* * *

"You know, I opened for Fall Out Boy once," Jaskier says. They're two hours into a too long plane ride to California. If he doesn't talk, he's going to think, and that's not something he wants to do.

Plus, he's determined to get his stoic bodyguard to crack. 

"No," comes the typical, flat reply. 

"Okay, time for a test and I promise not to judge you too harshly by your answer." Not that Geralt would care if he did. "Favorite Fall Out Boy song?"

"Don't have one."

Jaskier laughs. "Oh come on. You have to have one."

"I don't like Fall Out Boy."

Jaskier blinks in surprise. "That's impossible. Everyone likes Fall Out Boy."

"Not me."

"That's…" Jaskier scrunches his face up in confusion, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he shakes his head, deciding to let this one drop. 

He carries on, giving random anecdotes, in hopes of stirring some emotion from his bodyguard. It doesn't work. Not when he tells him about the time he fell off the stage, or the time he got drunk and confessed his undying love to Sarah Michelle Gellar. Nothing breaks him. 

He sits there for a while, thinking over the last few years. He struggled for a while, playing shows where hardly anyone showed up, and slowly growing his fan base. He struggled during those times, but he definitely appreciates them. It made it easier to connect with people that like his music. Not that he minds the popularity he's gained. It's what he wanted, after all.

"It's strange, you know? I was never the guy anyone wanted. I spent so much of my childhood feeling like I had to be loud just to get people to notice me. When that didn't work, I started teaching myself how to play instruments. I wanted to be like my favorite musicians. To have people adore me. Even if it wasn't even for being me. But I guess even that backfired."

"Hmm."

Jaskier turns his head to look at Geralt. He hasn't moved. His gaze is still focused on the sky, now growing dark. 

To anyone else the short response would be off putting, especially after such a confession. But coming from Geralt it's everything. It's a change from the toneless answers he's been giving. 

Jaskier grins to himself, "We're best friends now."

Geralt sighs and mutters out a "no" but he's smiling, just barely. Jaskier takes it as a win.

"Tell me something about yourself," Jaskier urges. "Anything."

Geralt is silent for a moment. Jaskier starts to think he's going to ignore the comment. Then he speaks. 

"I like Alanis Morissette."

Jaskier blinks, processing the words. He can't stop the grin from spreading across his face. "Oh my God."

Geralt points a finger at him. "If you make fun of me or tell anyone…"

"We both know you're not going to kill me because you need the money," Jaskier says. "But I'm not going to make fun of you. I love Alanis. Jagged Little Pill was one of my formative albums."

"That explains a lot."

"What?" Geralt doesn't answer. He just smiles and looks away. "Geralt, what does that explain?"

"You should get some sleep, Jaskier."

"Um no. Not until you tell me what you meant."

"You'll be staying awake a long time."

" _Geralt._ "

"Jaskier."

"I hate you," Jaskier mutters, slumping back onto his seat. 

Geralt chuckles. "No, you don't. You just don't like not getting your way."

Jaskier sighs. He's not wrong. Not that he's going to admit that out loud. From the smug look on his face, Jaskier has no doubt he knows it. 

"Okay, back on track. Who is your favorite artist of all time?"

Geralt is silent for a moment, gaze still focused out the window. "Carole King."

Jaskier's brain short circuits for a few long moments, images of Geralt singing _"You Make Me Feel Like A Natural Woman"_ filling his mind. His poor brain can't take it. It's too much. 

He clears his throat and looks away. "That's not what I was expecting."

"What? You thought I'd like something darker? Maybe grunge or metal?"

"No. Dude, you just told me you liked Alanis Morissette. I know your tastes aren't completely dark. That's just… surprising."

"She has a nice voice," Geralt says. "It's soothing."

"I can't deny that."

"Good. Now go to sleep."

"I don't know why you're so insistent on me sleeping."

"So that _I_ can sleep," Geralt says.

"Isn't that against the rules or something?"

"We're on a plane, Jaskier. The only risk anyone poses to you right now is yourself."

"Not you?"

"I'm only a risk to you if you don't shut up," Geralt mutters. 

Jaskier rolls his eyes, but he does lay his seat back in an effort to get more comfortable. He's not expecting to sleep, but the longer he lays there, eyes fixed on the now dark ceiling of the plane, he feels all the exhaustion of the last few days settling over him. He closes his eyes.

* * *

Jaskier wakes a few hours before they're scheduled to reach LA. The sun is pouring in through the tiny window across from him, and he squints against the offending light at Geralt. 

He's still asleep, or so Jaskier guesses. His eyes are closed at least, and he looks a little less tense. Even if his arms are still crossed. His features are relaxed, the scowl Jaskier is used to seeing no longer present. It's relaxed into something softer.

"Quit staring," Geralt grunts.

Jaskier flails a bit, startled at having been caught. "I wasn't staring."

"You were." Geralt opens an eye to look at him. "You still are."

"Yes, well you're talking. Am I not supposed to look at you?"

"No."

Jaskier rolls his eyes and stands up. "I need coffee."

"That's probably the last thing you need," Geralt tells him. 

"One thing you should know about me is that I can't function without my coffee," Jaskier says. 

"Debatable."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"From what I've seen you can barely function no matter what you're putting into your body."

"Not true. I am a fully functioning adult. Thank you."

The words are barely out of his mouth before water starts shooting out of the tap and into his face. He screams and stumbles backwards, the coffee pot he was holding slipping from his fingers. 

There's no sound of breaking glass though. Thanks to Geralt, of course, who must have ninja reflexes or something. 

Jaskier jabs a finger into his chest. "Don't say anything."

Geralt smiles. Actually smiles. No teeth, but it's still the most expressive Jaskier has seen him. "Why would I ever think to doubt your ability to survive on your own?"

He puts the coffee pot down, turns off the water, tosses a towel a Jaskier, and walks away. Jaskier stands there dripping onto the tile as he watches him go. He turns his attention back to the counter and sighs. So much for coffee.

He towels off as best as he can before giving up. He'll just have to change into whatever he packed in his carry on. It had been Ciri's instruction, saying that it's better to be prepared. She'd probably get far too much amusement out of his situation if she were here. 

“So what’s first on the agenda?” Jaskier asks, falling back onto his seat. 

“Did you put on eyeliner?” Geralt questions, rather than answering Jaskier’s question.

“Of course I did,” Jaskier says. “It’s my look.”

“Your look.”

“Yeah, you know. My _look_.” Jaskier waves a hand down his body. “Everyone musician has one. This is mine.”

“You’re in all black and have on eyeliner.”

“It’s _guyliner_ , Geralt. And just because my look is simple, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Or work for me.”

“If you say so.”

“I can never tell if you’re serious or just fucking with me,” Jaskier mutters.

Geralt smirks. “You’ll never know.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “Anyway, back to my question. What are we doing after we land?”

“Checking into the hotel,” Geralt says. “While you’re getting settled I’m supposed to check on the bus and make sure it’s ready after your last show in LA on Tuesday.”

“And I need food,” Jaskier says.

“You can order room service.”

“And actually trust someone won’t try and poison my food?”

Geralt gives a put upon sigh. “Fine. We’ll check in, we’ll go out for lunch so you don’t wither away, and then I’ll check on the bus while you nap.”

“I’m not five, I don’t need a nap.”

“Could have fooled me,” Geralt says.

“You’re the one that’s always grumpy,” Jaskier says. “Maybe _you_ need a nap.”

"I am not grumpy."

"Sure you're not."

"If I was, maybe it would be because you never shut up."

"Well one of us has to talk," Jaskier shrugs, unphased.

"And one of us has to keep you alive."

"You should be happy," Jaskier tells him. "You get to travel and see all these lovely places."

"Right now I'm looking at pavement."

He's not wrong. Jaskier looks out his window to see they're about to touch down. The landing is smooth, thankfully. It's one of his least favorite parts about flying. When they step out onto the landing he grins and holds out his arms. "Welcome to LA!"

* * *

Geralt insists on walking close beside him as they exit the car and enter the hotel. He has one hand on Jaskier's back and the other on his hip, no doubt close to his gun. It's a little over the top. Jaskier can't see anyone attacking me in the hotel lobby. Or the elevator. Or the hallway leading to their room.

"This is nice," Jaskier says, looking around the suite. There's a small kitchen to the right, with a door leading to one of the bedrooms right next to it. The other bedroom is right across from it, with the small living room separating them. 

"Ciri must have known I'd kill you if I had to sleep in the same room as you," Geralt comments. 

"Well you better enjoy this," Jaskier tells him. "Most of this tour you get to spend quality time with me on the bus."

"Lovely."

“And Ciri, of course,” Jaskier adds. “Whenever she decides to show up.”

“Her flight gets in in a few hours,” Geralt says, walking towards the room to the right and looking in. “This is mine.”

Jaskier doesn’t bother to argue. He’ll just be happy to have a bed to sleep in for a few nights before they move to the bus. “Fine by me.”

“You’re really not going to argue?”

“Nope.”

“Are you ill?”

Jaskier laughs and tosses his bed into his room. It’s nice. It has a bed and a TV. That’s all he needs, really. “No. I’m just learning to pick my arguments.”

“Hmm.”

“Let’s eat,” Jaskier says, clapping his hands together and turning to face Geralt. “You promised me lunch after we checked in.”

“Fine.”

They find themselves at one of Jaskier’s favorite cafes. It has plenty of outdoor seating, which Jaskier loves. It’s the perfect place to drink tea and enjoy the nice weather. Well, it would be perfect if Geralt didn’t insist on standing next to the table and glaring at everyone that dared to walk by him.

"You know, you could join me. You don't have to stand back there looking all brooding and menacing."

"I'm just doing what I was hired to do."

"And you're doing a very swell _job_ of it," Jaskier jokes. When Geralt remains unmoving, he sighs. "Isn't your job to keep me happy?"

"No, it's to keep you alive. No one ever said you had to be happy."

"Oh come on," Jaskier presses, unphased. "You can keep me just as safe sitting across from me as you can standing there." When Geralt still doesn't move, Jaskier pouts. "Come on. Don't make me eat alone, Geralt."

People are looking at them now. It's probably part of the reason Geralt finally relents and takes the seat across from him. Though Jaskier would like to believe he had a little to do with it. 

"There we go," Jaskier grins. "Let's eat."

“How are you so sure no one in this restaurant is going to poison you?” Geralt asks, picking up the menu.

“I know the owner,” Jaskier says. “We’re friends. He would never let anyone poison me. He said he’d check the food himself.”

Geralt nods, “Good. I can’t have you dropping dead on my third day watching you.”

“Yes, that would give you a bad reputation as a bodyguard.”

“Hmm.”

The rest of the meal passes in silence, at least on Geralt’s part. It’s not as if Jaskier expects him to be a talkative dining companion. Jaskier is more than used to carrying the conversation anyway. Things are going well. The meal is great. The weather is nice. 

Then someone approaches their table. The moment the hand rests on Jaskier’s shoulder, Geralt is out of his seat. Jaskier looks to his left to see a girl, who can’t be more than fourteen, standing beside him, phone and notebook in hand. 

Jaskier waves a hand at Geralt, “It’s fine, Geralt. I’m sure this young lady means no harm.”

“No I… I’m sorry for bothering you. But I was wondering if I could get your autograph?”

Jaskier smiles, “Of course.” He takes the notebook and pen the girl hands him and looks at her expectantly. “Who am I making this out to?”

“Amanda,” the girl says. “I’m such a big fan. Your music has like, changed me. I don’t know what I would do without it.”

“Well thank you,” Jaskier says, beaming at her. He quickly signs the page before handing it back. “It’s always nice to meet someone with good taste.” He turns to Geralt. “See Geralt, people do appreciate my music.”

Geralt grunts.

Jaskier turns back to Amanda, “You’ll have to excuse him. He’s new.”

Amanda smiles shyly. “Could I get a picture too? If it’s not too much to ask.”

“Of course it’s not.” 

He grins for the camera when she leans in close, aware of Geralt’s glare focused on them. Once she’s snapped the picture, she stands up. “Thank you. I can’t wait for the show tomorrow night. I love both you and Yennefer. So it’s a dream you’re both playing together.”

“Yes, Yen is very talented,” Jaskier says. “I’m honored to be able to tour with her. And on my first co-headliner here in the United States.”

“Hopefully not your last,” Amanda says. “I can see you selling out shows for years.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

Amanda nods. “I’ll let you get back to your meal. Thanks again for the autograph and picture.”

“Thanks for your support.” Jaskier turns back around in his seat to find Geralt still looking at him, face stern. “Well she was nice, wasn’t she?”

“She could have been an assassin.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “She was barely a teenager, Geralt. And did you see how sweet she was? Hardly assassin material.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Geralt tells him.

“Yes well, this time they weren’t. I’m still alive. Your job is secure.”

“You need to be more careful.”

“I won’t stop talking to my fans just because I have a stalker,” Jaskier says.

“Your stalker could be one of your fans,” Geralt reminds him. 

Jaskier can't deny that. Especially after some of the letters he's received. He knows he should be on guard, be more careful, but he's always been a friendly guy. He doesn't like the thought of disappointing his fans over one psycho. 

"We should go," Jaskier says. "I want to rehear a bit before the show tomorrow."

Geralt puts his fork down and waves their server over. "We'll take the check."

"Please," Jaskier adds with a smile.

"Oh it's on the house," she tells him. "Courtesy of the owner. He said it's an honor to serve the great Jaskier."

"How nice of him," Jaskier says. "Send him my thanks." He turns to Jaskier with a grin. "You hear that? _Great._ An _honor_."

"He's clearly mentally afflicted," Geralt mutters. 

"Oh you'll see," Jaskier says. "You should be prepared to be blown away tomorrow."

"I can hardly contain myself."

* * *

Jaskier is filled with nervous excitement the whole day leading up to the concert. It's the first show of the tour and it sold out. Despite what Yennefer might think, Jaskier has no doubt it has more to do with him. The world is finally recognizing his talents. 

"Jaskier," Yennefer calls as soon as he steps backstage. "You made it."

"Of course I did," Jaskier says. "I'm not going to miss my own show."

"Our show," Yennefer corrects him. 

"Of course."

She looks over Jaskier's shoulder and smiles, a sharp predatory smile that Jaskier doesn't like one bit. "Who is this?"

Jaskier turns his head and realizes her gaze is focused on Geralt. "This is Geralt, my bodyguard."

"Oh yes, I heard about your little stalker," Yennefer says, striding past him towards Geralt. "No doubt this big, strong man is more than capable of keeping you safe."

"Hmm."

It's not the hmm Jaskier has grown used to hearing lately. Amazing how he's only shown Geralt less than a week and he's already able to read his tones and body language. And as Yennefer presses herself closer and smirks up at him, everything about him screams uncomfortable. 

"Right," Jaskier says, clapping his hands together. "I need Geralt with me as I take a look around."

"I could…"

"No doubt you're very busy getting ready for the show and don't have time for such boring matters," Jaskier says, grinning over at her. "Come along, Geralt."

He turns and walks away, knowing that Geralt will follow, but still pleased when he hears the already familiar footfall behind him. 

"This is a great spot to open the tour," Jaskier says. He's standing center stage and looking out at the empty space that in just a few hours will be filled with bodies. When Geralt remains silent he turns his head to look at him. "Don't you think?"

"I'm not that familiar with concert venues," Geralt replies. "I've heard they're dirty, but this one seems clean and… adequate."

"That's a glowing recommendation," Jaskier grins. "They should put that on their website. Clean and adequate."

"It could be worse."

"True."

"There you are," Ciri says, striding across the stage towards them. "Yennefer said you'd disappeared. I got worried."

"I told her I was taking a look around," Jaskier says.

"Yes well, since you're out here we might as well do sound check."

"Sounds good to me," Jaskier says. "I'm dying to know how I sound in this room."

"Much the same as you sound anywhere else I imagine," Geralt says. "Annoying."

"Nice to see you two are getting along," Ciri comments. 

"Oh we are," Jaskier tells her. "Geralt and I are the best of friends now."

"That's a massive overstatement," Geralt replies. 

Jaskier waves him off, “It’s okay. He’s still in denial, but he’ll get there.”

“Doubtful.”

“So, where is my beauty?” Jaskier asks, looking around with his hands on his hips. He could swear he brought her in with him. “Where is Adrienne?”

“What is he talking about?” Geralt asks.

“His guitar,” Ciri tells him. “He named her Adrienne.”

“Adri for short,” Jaskier says. “She’s been with me since the beginning. I never go anywhere without her.”

“And yet you lost her,” Geralt points out.

“I didn’t _lose_ her,” Jaskier argues. “I brought her in with me. Someone must have kidnapped her.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is stolen.”

“That’s just as bad!”

“Relax Jaskier,” Ciri sighs. “I’m sure she’s just backstage.”

“She better be,” Jaskier mutters. “I can’t go on without her.”

Ciri is right. Adrienne is backstage in his dressing room. He must have put her there when they were taking their tour. He opens the case and picks her up, stroking her side with a smile. “Hello beautiful.”

“Do you two need a moment alone?” Geralt asks him.

“Mock all you want,” Jaskier says, putting her back in her case and picking it up to bring it to the stage. “But we are magic together.”

“He’s not wrong,” Ciri says.

“She was with me when I made it big,” Jaskier says. “She’s going to be with me forever.”

Geralt doesn’t seem impressed. “What if she breaks?”

Jaskier gasps and puts a hand to his chest. “Don’t you dare say that! She’s not going to break. I would die.”

“That’s a bit over dramatic.”

“It’s the truth,” Jaskier says. “We’re connected. And you are going to see just how special our bond is in a few hours.”

“We’ll see about that.”

* * *

Before the tour started, Jaskier and Yennefer had made an agreement that they would switch off on who plays last at each show. Wanting it to be fair, they flip a coin to see who gets to end the night of their first show. He watches the coin as it soars through the air, falling easily into Geralt’s hand. He hadn’t wanted to do the toss, but Jaskier had insisted they needed someone impartial. 

“Well?” Jaskier asks, trying to peek around Geralt’s clenched fingers to see the results.

“Heads,” Geralt says, opening up his fist and revealing the coin.

“Looks like you’re closing the show tonight,” Yennefer tells him. “No pressure.”

He hadn’t truly felt nervous until then, as he looked out the curtains to the full room. He’s really playing here, where some of his idols have played, to a full house. It’s like his dreams really are coming true.

When he takes the stage that night with Adrienne gripped tightly in his hand and steps up to the mic he feels a sense of calm wash over him. The crowd is buzzing in excitement. Something that easily passes over to him. He’s here to play music he loves to people that love it as much as he does. Something apparent by the way they sing loudly to the words he’s written. This is where he belongs.

He strums Adrienne and smiles at the cheer from the crowd. “This is going to be my last song, but it’s one I think you’ll like.”

> _Hope dangles on a string  
>  Like slow-spinning redemption  
> Winding in and winding out  
> The shine of it has caught my eye  
> And roped me in  
> So mesmerizing so hypnotizing  
> I am captivated_

He runs off the stage when it’s over, his body still thrumming with energy from the set. He grins when he sees Ciri and Geralt waiting for him. “That was awesome.”

“It was,” Ciri agrees, handing him a bottle of water. “They loved you.”

"So," Jaskier says, taking a long drink. "What did you think?"

"It was alright," Geralt says, leaning casually back against the wall. "You're no Ed Sheeran."

"What?"

"Or Hozier."

"You know who Hozier is?"

"Everybody knows who Hozier is," Geralt tells him. "You're no Beyoncé either."

"That's fair, but…"

"Or Rihanna."

"Geralt…"

"It's alright, I don't expect anyone to be Lady Gaga"

"Oh my God."

"Or even Something Corporate."

"That's a low blow," Jaskier says, pointing a finger at him. "Andrew McMahon is my idol."

"I know."

"You…" He turns to Ciri when Geralt grins. "Did you put him up to this?"

"No, but it's great," Ciri says, not even bothering to contain her laughter. 

"You're my manager," Jaskier huffs. "You're supposed to support me."

"Oh sweetie, I do. We just like to tease you."

"Keep you humble," Geralt adds. 

"I am perfectly humble!" Jaskier says, throwing his hands up. 

"You said you're going to be the next Freddie Mercury," Geralt reminds him. "And then insisted on singing all the parts of Bohemian Rhapsody while drunk. On Ciri's kitchen counter. While wearing a crown made out of balloons shaped like cats."

"Because Freddie was awesome," Jaskier says. "And talented as hell. Of course I want to be like him."

“Which is fair,” Ciri says. “It’s important to dream big.”

“It’s also important to stay grounded,” Geralt adds.

“Something you’re no doubt going to help me with,” Jaskier says.

“Someone has to.”

“Great set, Jaskier,” Yennefer says, walking up to them. Though she’s speaking to him, her eyes are on Geralt.

“You too,” Jaskier says. She is insanely talented, and has a way of captivating the audience. If he didn’t know any better he’d say she put a spell over them. “Very captivating.”

“What did you think?” Yennefer asks, stepping closer to Geralt. “Were you captivated?”

Geralt shrugs, “They say that Jaskier does have that effect on people. I’m still waiting.”

Yennefer laughs, “I was talking about my set, silly.”

"You have a nice voice,” Geralt offers.

“Hmm well if you ever want a more private session, let me know,” she says, trailing a finger across his chest. She steps back with a smirk. “I’m heading to my room.”

“Yes well, it is late and we have another show tomorrow,” Jaskier says.

“We could all use sleep,” Geralt agrees.

“Well the offer is always open if you change your mind,” Yennefer says. Geralt remains silent, face blank. Yennefer doesn’t seem the least bit put off by it. “Goodnight Geralt.”

She turns and walks towards the exit, not even bothering to acknowledge that Ciri and Jaskier are still there. “Yes goodnight, Yennefer,” Jaskier calls after her. The door closes with a bang behind her.

“What a lovely person,” Ciri says.

“I’m starving,” Jaskier says, walking towards his dressing room. “Please tell me we can get food before going back to the hotel.”

“If we don’t feed you, you’ll just complain so we don’t really have a choice,” Geralt says. 

“You’re not you when you’re hungry, Jaskier,” Ciri teases.

Jaskier throws a pick at her, which she easily ducks. “Just help me get packed up so we can get out of here before I turn into a Snickers commercial.”

* * *

It’s exhilarating being back on the road and playing shows almost every night. It’s something he’s been missing the past few months while he’s been working on new music. He loves that part of the process too. He loves sitting at with his guitar or at his keyboard with his notebook in front of him, crafting new songs. But it’s even better when he gets to play those songs for a crowd for the first time.

Hell, he even loves traveling on the tour bus. Geralt doesn’t seem all that fond of it, but Jaskier is sure he’ll come around. Just like he’s coming around to being Jaskier’s friend, even if he still denies it. Sometimes Jaskier will catch him smiling at something he said when he thinks he isn’t looking. Jaskier rarely calls him on it. He’s afraid if he does, Geralt will become more aware and stop. 

And that is the last thing Jaskier wants to happen. He loves knowing that he can make Geralt smile like that. The only person that seems capable of making him smile openly is Ciri, and well, Jaskier can’t blame him for that. Ciri is like sunshine bottled up underneath a tough exterior. Only jerks and psychopaths can resist smiling at sunshine.

Geralt, despite his gruff and brooding persona, is neither of those things.

"What kind of name is Jaskier anyway?" Geralt asks him. They’re set up in a hotel for the night, something that is a relief for both of them. Geralt especially. 

"It's not my real name,” Jaskier says with a shrug. “It's my stage name."

"But why do you need it?"

"Ciri picked it out," Jaskier tells him. "Apparently it gives me an air of mystery. Makes people curious and want to know more about me. They wouldn't do that with some boring name."

"I doubt anything about you is boring," Geralt comments. 

Jaskier smiles, "You don't even know me. You know Jaskier."

"Are they really all that different?"

“In some ways.”

“Name one.”

Jaskier thinks about it. There is one. A big one, in fact, that he’s been agonizing over for a while. “Well for one, Jaskier isn’t as out about his bisexuality.”

If Geralt is surprised, he doesn’t show it. Though Jaskier wonders if he could even show surprise. He tries to picture the emotion on his face and fails. “Hmm.”

“That’s all you have to say? I come out to you and you just ‘hmm’ at me?”

Geralt smiles. “Am I supposed to be shocked?”

“Well no,” Jaskier says. “It’s not exactly something I’ve kept hidden privately. _I’m_ out to my friends and family. Jaskier though, while I haven’t exactly kept it hidden, it’s not something I’ve outright said.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Jaskier says. “I guess I just don’t want to make a big deal out of it. It’s part of who I am, and I’m proud of that, but it’s not the most interesting thing about me. I want people to know me for my music and not my sexuality.”

“Can’t they do both?”

“I guess so,” Jaskier says. “I just want to come out publicly on my terms, and no one else’s.”

“No doubt in typical Jaskier fashion,” Geralt says.

An image flashes in Jaskier’s head and he grins. “You just gave me an idea.” 

“Do I want to know?”

“Oh you’re going to see it,” Jaskier says. The grin doesn’t leave his face as he hugs Geralt and rushes off to his room. It’s only once he’s behind closed doors that he realizes what he did. He’d hugged Geralt. His bodyguard. The man that could easily end him if he decided to. 

He shakes his off, deciding to focus on his plan before his mind decides to spiral. He grabs his guitar and a notepad and sits down on the floor, leaning back against the bed. He strums his finger across a cord and hears a chair scrape against the hardwood floor in the other room a second before Geralt’s voice. “I’m going to sleep. Try not to be too loud.”

“You can’t put a silencer on creativity, Geralt,” Jaskier calls back.

“You can if you don’t want to be kicked out of the hotel for noise complaints,” comes Geralt’s retort.

Jaskier doesn’t tell him he has a point. “Goodnight, Geralt.”

All he gets is a grunt in response. 

Jaskier smiles to himself and strums another cord. 

* * *

He loses a lot of sleep the next few nights. For once it wasn’t because of the worry that kept slipping into his thoughts once he was alone. No, he was determined to finish his song so that he could have it ready to play for his sold out show in Vegas. He can’t think of a better place to come out publicly than Sin City. The city of pleasure.

What he’s not expecting is the nerves that slowly rise all throughout his set. He still puts on his best performance, giving the crowd his all. They’re one of the best of the tour, singing along and cheering. It’s a definite confidence boost. 

“So, tonight I want to play you guys a new song,” Jaskier says. “It’s not on any record yet, and it’s never been heard by anyone before. Save for my grumpy bodyguard. He’s definitely a fan.” At this he throws a grin at Geralt, who rolls his eyes. He turns back to the crowd. “It’s very personal for me. 

He steps up to his keyboard and takes a deep breath. His fingers hover over the keys for a moment and he meets Geralt’s gaze. Geralt nods and Jaskier nods back, smiling as a sense of calm washes over him. He can do this.

Once the first word leaves his lips, it’s easy. He’s been singing this song for days, his own truth sang quietly to himself. Now he’s sharing it with the world, knowing what it means. It’s freeing. 

> _Staring down my two halves in the glass  
>  Feels like a heart attack  
> Telling me to choose one or the other  
> I get so panicked  
> I don't wanna lose but if I choose love  
> What will happen then?  
> Staring down my two halves in the glass  
> What then?  
> Go ahead and choose, go ahead and choose  
> Go ahead and choose  
> All I have to give this world is me, that's it_

He finishes the song, before starting into the chorus of another. One that’s going to give him the opportunity he’s been waiting for.

“Ain’t no lie. Baby, bye bye bye!”

Jaskier turns, facing away from the crowd, and takes a deep breath. This is it. After he does this, there’s no going back. He smiles to himself and drops his pants, kicking them away. He hears gasps from the crowd followed by a few whistles and cheers. He does a little twirl and bows to the crowd before sauntering off the stage.

Geralt is waiting when he reaches the side of the stage. He’s smiling. “Well that’s certainly on your own terms.”

“I think it went well,” Jaskier says, smiling wider as the cheers from the crowd still reach his ears.

“The leggings were a nice touch,” Geralt comments.

“Why thank you,” Jaskier replies. He looks down at the pink, blue, and purple leggings and runs a hand across the material. “I might have to add them to my wardrobe. They’re comfortable. And soft. Here…”

“What…?”

Jaskier grabs his hand and places it on his thigh. “See how soft they are?”

Geralt looks at him, their faces level and close. Jaskier can see the tiny flecks of gold in his eyes from this close. And the way Geralt’s throat moves when he swallows. And oh god, his hand is still on his thigh. “They’re… nice,” Geralt says.

“I think you need some,” Jaskier says, nodding to himself. “Maybe not like these. Because I have no idea if you’re…”

“I am,” Geralt says, lips lifting into an amused smile.

“Oh. Good. That’s good.”

“Jaskier, you need to go on for your encore.”

Ciri’s voice breaks through the haze and brings him back to reality. He’d forgotten they were still backstage, surrounded by their friends and the crew. He smiles and takes a step back, Geralt’s hand falling away. “Right. Yeah. We can’t leave them hanging.”

He hears Ciri questioning Geralt as he walks back towards the stage. He rolls his shoulders and then runs out, waving at the cheering crowd. He grabs his guitar and steps up to the microphone. “You all didn’t think I could leave you without one more song, right?”

* * *

The sound of music fills the room, and Jaskier smiles. It’s technically one of their few days off, but he still can’t help playing. He’d say it’s because he wants the practice, but part of him enjoys the way it drives Geralt crazy.

“Jaskier!” Geralt yells from across the room. Jaskier ignores him and strums another cord. “Jaskier!”

He smiles sweetly up at Jaskier when he appears in his doorway. “Yes Geralt?”

“You’ve been playing for an hour,” Geralt says. “Can’t you keep it down?”

“I’ve told you, you can’t silence perfection, Geralt.”

“Yes, well you can silence mediocrity, and that’s about where you’re at right now.”

Jaskier gasps, and puts his guitar aside. “Well that was rude and uncalled for.”

“So is playing just because you know it annoys me when I’m trying to sleep.”

“It’s not even 4 p.m.,” Jaskier points out.

“Well if you wouldn’t insist on playing all night then maybe I could sleep at a decent hour,” Jaskier retorts.

“Whatever,” Jaskier mutters. “I’m going to go down to the lobby.”

“You can’t go alone,” Geralt reminds him.

“I just want to grab some food,” Jaskier says, heading towards the door. “Surely, no one is going to kill me in the few minutes I’m gone. But by all means, come wi…” Jaskier jumps and backs away from the door, and turns to call back into the room. "Geralt!"

"What is it?" Geralt asks. He frowns when all Jaskier does is point, and steps past him to look at the door. His shoulders immediately tense and he pushes Jaskier back. "Get inside."

"How did they even know where I'm staying?" Jaskier questions.

"I imagine someone was a little too quick to release information they shouldn't have for a quick buck."

"What are we going to do?" Jaskier looks at the image nailed to the door. It's another picture of him. This time walking down the street with Geralt next to him. Geralt's face is scratched out. But that's not the most disturbing part. There's a hole in the middle of the image, right over Jaskier's heart. There are words smeared across the door in deep red. 

**_YOUR HEART IS MINE_ **

Jaskier shudders and finally moves back. He paces around the room as Geralt pulls his phone out. He takes a picture of the door and then presses some buttons on his phone before bringing it up to his ear. No doubt calling the police. 

Jaskier's skin feels too tight. His chest aches and he can't quite catch his breath. 

"There are cameras right?" Jaskier mutters. "They have to have seen whoever did this."

"They're going to check the footage," Geralt tells him. 

"Good. That's good."

"Are you okay?"

"No!" Jaskier throws his hands up in frustration, the laugh that escapes him is slightly hysterical. "I have a stalker, Geralt. And yes, I knew that. That's the reason you're here. But I didn't know it was this bad. That they would follow me across the damn country. What if they had broken in?"

"They wouldn't have made it far," Geralt says, calmly. "I would have noticed and stopped them before they even made it to you."

"You didn't even notice them nailing the pictures to the door!" Jaskier stops his pacing and turns to face him. 

"Maybe because you were playing your music so loud!"

"I was practicing!"

"You were being annoying. As always."

"Yeah well, if I'm so damn annoying, why are you here?"

Geralt stares at him, gaze unblinking as Jaskier works to calm himself. "Are you finished?"

Jaskier falls back onto the couch and closes his eyes. "I'm sorry for snapping at you. I'm just…"

"Afraid," Geralt finishes. 

Jaskier nods, "Yeah. I guess this all just made it more real. Before I could pretend they couldn't get to me. But now…"

"Nothing is going to happen to you," Geralt assures him. His voice is softer than Jaskier is used to. "It's my job to protect you. I'm going to see that though."

"Because you won't get paid if I'm dead," Jaskier mutters. 

Geralt's lips lift into a half smile. "That's not completely it."

"Was that your way of saying you like my company?"

"No."

"It is," Jaskier exclaims, a smile stretching across his face. "You like me. Admit it."

"I don't."

"Geralt has a soft spot for his favorite musician."

"You're not my favorite," Geralt grumbles. "I don't even like your music."

"I would be offended if I didn't know that was a lie," Jaskier says. 

"It's not."

"It is! And just for that I'm going to write you a song."

"Please don't."

Jaskier ignores him and gets to his feet, scanning the room. He gives a triumphant cry when he spots some paper. "This is going to be my greatest song ever."

Jaskier pours himself into writing after that, using it as a way to distract himself from the danger he’s in. If he doesn’t think about it, then it’s not as real. At least that’s what he tells himself. He notices the way Geralt watches him more carefully. He sticks closer too, shrinking the space between them when they walk, and glaring around at any passerby, as if daring them to try something. 

No one ever does. They don’t stay in a hotel for a while after that, instead choosing to stay on the bus even on their day off. He feels safer there somehow. Which doesn’t make sense. If this person is a fan then they know what his bus looks like. And if they can find him at a hotel then there’s no reason they can’t find where his bus is parked. 

He always pushes that thought away as quickly as it comes. He’s safe. He’s okay. He has Geralt, and despite his annoyance with him, he’s going to protect him. Yes, because it’s his job, but Jaskier saw the slight fear in his eyes at the note on the door. It made the threat more real for both of them. And Geralt, despite what he might say, wasn’t just worried about his client.

_Coming out of my cage and I’ve been doing just fine…_

He doesn’t play as much around Geralt anymore either. At least not when he’s writing. Knowing that the song he’s writing is about him is different. More personal. Geralt might not admit it out loud, but he’s curious. Jaskier can feel his eyes on him when he writes, humming quietly to himself. 

“You’ve been quieter than usual,” Geralt says one night. They’re alone at the front of the bus, on their way to the next stop on the tour. Ciri went to sleep an hour ago, at least, leaving Jaskier and Geralt alone. Jaskier had been expecting Geralt to follow like he usually does. He doesn’t feel the need to stick as close to Jaskier while they’re on the road. Someone would have to try really hard to get to him on a moving bus, apparently.

But tonight Geralt had stayed, sitting back in his chair with his book in his hands.

Jaskier grins over at him. “Have you missed my lovely conversation that much, Geralt?”

“No,” Geralt says. “You’re just rarely quiet. It’s… unsettling.”

“I’m focused,” Jaskier tells him. “I promise you I’ll be back to my old self once I’ve finished this song.”

“Hmm.”

“You should get some sleep though,” Jaskier says. “You know you’re grumpy without it.” When Geralt continues to frown at him, Jaskier sighs and puts his pen down. “Really, Geralt. I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.”

“I’m not.”

“Sure you’re not,” Jaskier says. “And that’s why you stayed up past your bedtime to question me.”

“I don’t have a bedtime,” Geralt scoffs. “And I’m not worried.”

“Right, so you’ve said.”

Geralt closes his book with a snap and gets to his feet. “I’m going to sleep.”

“You finally decided you need your beauty rest?” Jaskier teases. He laughs and ducks when Geralt tosses the book at him. He picks it up and points it at him. “Now, now. That’s no way to treat something so precious.”

“You’re right,” Geralt says. He steps closer and reaches down. For a moment, their hands touch and Jaskier forgets to breathe. Then Geralt is grabbing the book with a smirk and stepping back. “Books are precious property. I shouldn’t be so careless.”

“I was talking about me,” Jaskier says.

“I know,” Geralt says. “I’m supposed to keep you grounded, remember?”

“You can keep me grounded without insulting my ego,” Jaskier reminds him.

“Hmm, but that’s not as fun.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes, unable to keep the smile off his face. “Goodnight Geralt.”

Geralt grunts and turns away. “Goodnight Jaskier.” It’s said so quietly, Jaskier almost misses it. He settles back into the couch with a sigh. He can’t help but imagine a different scenario. One where Geralt hadn’t grabbed the book, but had taken Jaskier’s hand instead. Where it would have been so easy to pull Geralt down to him. To close the little space between them and kiss.

It’s not the first time he’s thought about it. Or even the hundredth. It’s getting harder and harder not to the more time he spends with Geralt and realizes that what he feels has grown past a simple attraction. Sometimes when Geralt looks at him he sees something in his eyes that makes him believe he’s not alone. That Geralt feels the same way he does.

But Jaskier is nowhere near brave enough to act on it. Geralt is his bodyguard, and his friend. He’s not going to risk that in the off chance that he’s right. 

So he writes, putting his feelings into song and hoping one day he’ll be brave enough to sing them and make Geralt understand.

* * *

“I want to go out,” Jaskier pouts. “We have a few days off. I want to blow off some steam.”

“You do realize how dangerous that would be right?” Geralt asks, glancing at him over his book. “You have a stalker, Jaskier.”

“Yes but…”

“One that just threatened you not even two weeks ago.”

“I know,” Jaskier sighs. “But I can’t just keep staying in like this. It’s going to drive me crazy. And then I’m going to drive you crazy, and you might stop caring about the money and kill me.”

Geralt stares at him for a moment, face blank. Jaskier has been getting pretty good at reading him in their time together over the past couple of months, but there are still times he alludes him. Like now. 

“Please Geralt,” Jaskier begs. He drops down onto his knees in front of him and grabs his hands. “Please? I promise to stick close to you, and that if you sense any threat to listen to you and leave.”

Geralt rolls his eyes towards the ceiling, and exhales deeply. “Fine. We’ll go. But you aren’t to leave my side.”

“Yeah fine,” Jaskier grins and stands up. “But there’s just one thing…”

“What?”

“You can’t go to a club in that,” Jaskier says, waving a hand down his body.

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll stand out like a sore thumb, and _that_ will draw attention to us. Attention we don’t need, remember?”

Geralt gives a huff of annoyance and gets to his feet, “Where am I supposed to find suitable clothes at the last minute Jaskier? I’m not about to go shopping.”

“I’m sure Ciri can help with that,” Jaskier says. He pulls out a phone and sends a quick text, smiling when she says she’s on it. He pockets his phone and looks back at Geralt. “She says she’ll be here in maybe half an hour with your clothes. And I am off to get ready.”

“Can’t you just wear that?”

Jaskier looks down at his jeans and black t-shirt. “No, I absolutely cannot wear this.”

While most of the clothes he brought with him are much the same, there are a few things he’s been saving for a moment like this. He takes a quick shower and puts on his favorite pair of black jeans with a purple shirt that he buttons halfway, along with a coin necklace Ciri gave him years ago for his birthday. He styles his hair a little on the messy side and applies his eyeliner, and then steps back, examining himself in the mirror. He does a turn and smiles to himself. “Perfect.”

When he steps out of the room, Geralt isn’t there. He’d heard Ciri come in while he was getting dressed, so he knows he must have his clothes. “I’m ready when you are, Geralt.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Geralt calls through the door. “We’re not going.”

“What? Come on, Geralt. You can’t change your mind.”

“I can, and I have.”

Jaskier sighs and moves towards the door. He knocks, waiting for a response. When none comes, he knocks again. “You know I’m going to stand here and knock until you open the door. I’m very persistent.”

“More like annoying,” Geralt mutters. Jaskier steps back when the door opens suddenly. The first thing he sees are the leather pants, the _tight_ leather pants. His eyes move up and he’s pretty sure he stops breathing for a moment when he’s met with a shirt that’s just as tight, revealing far more of Geralt’s chest than Jaskier has ever seen. 

“Fuck,” Jaskier mutters under his breath. He jumps when fingers snap in front of his face. 

“My eyes are up here, Jaskier.”

And if Jaskier thought looking into Geralt’s eyes would be any better, he was fucking wrong. They seem darker than normal, and that has very little to do with the eyeliner. 

Ciri did this on purpose. There’s no doubt about it. She’s probably in her room laughing at the crisis Jaskier is in right now. 

He’s always been attracted to Geralt, and well sure it’s a lot more than that. But this is just unfair. He makes himself look away, focusing on the painting of mountains just right of Geralt. “You look great,” he tells him. “I don’t see why you don’t want to go out.”

“Because I look ridiculous.”

“No, you look hot.” The words leave Jaskier’s mouth before he can stop them. He tries to play it off, waving a hand in Geralt’s direction, much as he had before. “You _know_ you do. Far from ridiculous Geralt. And you’ll blend in perfectly.”

It’s not completely true. He doubts Geralt will ever blend in anywhere he goes. He just has that sort of presence. But it’ll be a different kind of standing out. More of a ‘hey that dude’s ridiculously attractive’ then a ‘that dude is scary and intimidating’ standing out.

When Geralt still doesn’t seem moved, Jaskier sighs. “Please? I need this, Geralt. We’ve been cooped up for weeks on the bus, and then at the venue. Which I don’t mind. I love what I do. But that doesn’t mean I don’t need a night where I can let loose every now and then. I think you do too.”

“I can’t let loose when I’m trying to keep you alive,” Geralt tells him.

Jaskier’s face falls and his shoulders slump. “Fine,” he mutters, and turns away towards his room. 

“Where are you going?” Geralt asks him.

“Well if we’re not going on there’s no reason for me to wear my best outfit to sit around the hotel,” Jaskier mumbles.

“Who said we weren’t going out?”

Jaskier turns his head to look at him, face pinched in confusion. “You did. Just now.”

Geralt smiles, not bothering to hide it. “Maybe I changed my mind.”

“Really?”

“It’ll be better than having to hear your complain all night.”

Jaskier laughs happily and throws his arms around Geralt, hugging him tightly, before jumping away. “Thank you!”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” Geralt says, waving him off. “I’m doing it for my sake as much as yours.”

“Sure you are,” Jaskier says. He grabs his wallet and room key from the table. “You just like seeing me happy, you can admit it.”

“Let’s just go before I change my mind,” Geralt says, ushering him towards the door.

The club is packed when they arrive. A sea of bodies dance to the music as lights flash around them. Jaskier wants nothing more than to throw himself into them like he used to, but he knows he needs to work up to that. Especially with Geralt with him. 

“I need a drink,” he calls over the music. When Geralt just frowns, Jaskier grabs his arm and pulls him towards the bar. It’s not as loud over here as it is in the middle of the floor. 

Jaskier orders himself a rum and coke, unsurprised when Geralt simply gets water. “You know you can relax and enjoy yourself,” Jaskier tells him.

“The moment I relax is the moment you get attacked,” Geralt tells him.

“Yes, because I’m sure my stalker is just waiting in the wings for you to let your guard down,” Jaskier says, taking a sip of his drink. 

Geralt shrugs, “Most likely. Which is why you’re not going to go anywhere alone.”

Jaskier downs his drink quickly and orders another, smiling when Geralt raises an eyebrow. “I’m living enough for the both of us tonight.”

“No, you’re just going to get drunk and make my life more difficult.”

Jaskier notices a group of girls nearby eyeing Geralt and pointing, clearly trying to talk each other into approaching him. Something that has Jaskier scooting closer to him until he’s pressed close. Geralt raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. Jaskier finishes his drink and reaches for Geralt’s hand. “I want to dance!”

“No.”

“Come on Geralt,” Jaskier pouts. “I’m dancing, and you have to stick by me, so you have to dance too.”

“I don’t dance.”

“Well you do tonight,” Jaskier grins pulls him towards the dance floor, throwing a grin at the scowling girls. 

At first it’s awkward. Geralt stands there stiffly, while Jaskier dances in front of him. After the second song with Geralt looking like a wooden board in the sea of moving bodies, Jaskier acts. He steps closer to Geralt and reaches for his hands, putting them on his hips, before putting his own hands around Geralt’s neck. 

“You need to dance,” Jaskier says, trying to be heard over the music.

“I told you…”

“Dance!”

Jaskier gets lost in it all. The music, the lights, the alcohol coursing through him, Geralt being pressed up close and smelling so damn good. He leans in and nuzzles into his neck, not really thinking. Geralt’s hands tighten on his hips, but he doesn’t push him away. Strangely he pulls him closer. Jaskier can swear he hears him say his name. 

He pulls back to look at him to find his eyes already on him. He smiles and brings a hand up to Geralt’s face. “I like it when you smile.”

Geralt does smile then, and that fills Jaskier with a wave of giddiness. He did that. He made Geralt smile.

> _Maybe if I went out less on the weekend  
>  Maybe if I just didn't exist  
> Maybe if I was straight  
> Maybe if I was vegan  
> Maybe if I still had you to kiss_

It’s as if the song propels him forward, urged on by the atmosphere and alcohol. He leans in and kisses him. His lips move hungrily against Geralt’s. One of his hands moves up, gripping him by the hair and pulling him in, while the other slips around to his back, trailing down until...

“Jaskier,” Geralt murmurs against his lips.

“Hmm?”

“We should go.”

And Jaskier _loves_ that idea. He wants to go back to the hotel and be alone with Geralt and worship him like he deserves. He must say that out loud because Geralt huffs a laugh as he helps him into the car. He sighs, closes his eyes, and leans his head against the window, thinking of all the things he’s going to do to Geralt to show him how much he appreciates him.

When Jaskier opens his eyes it’s to bright light blinding him, and the worst headache he’s ever had. Which may be an exaggeration, but right now it certainly feels like it. “I should have had more water,” he mutters to himself.

He gets out of bed and walks into the bathroom, frowning at himself in the mirror. He looks like a mess. He debates between showering and coffee, deciding it’s better to get the shower out of the way now, hoping the water will wake him up more.

It does. But with that comes all the memories of the night before. The way he and Geralt had danced. How he smiled and Jaskier had wanted to kiss him. And… 

“Oh god,” he whispers. “Oh no.”

He'd kissed Geralt last night. After months of trying to keep his feelings in check he'd gotten drunk and ruined it. He wouldn't be surprised if he walked out there and a new bodyguard was waiting for him.

He can't stop fidgeting the whole time he's getting dressed. Then as he stands by the door, trying to talk himself into opening it. Finally he sighs and turns the handle, slowly opening the door. Might as well face this now and get it over with.

He's both nervous relieved when Geralt is sitting on the couch when he walks out, his usual book in his hands. 

"Geralt?"

"Hmm?" Geralt puts the book aside, giving him his undivided attention.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Jaskier mumbles. He can’t quite meet Geralt’s eyes as he rubs the back of his neck. Images of the night before flood back to him. The way Geralt’s body felt pressed against his as they danced, the piercing look in his eyes, the warmth of his breath on his face. The taste of him in those brief moments they kissed.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get it out of his head. 

But it doesn’t mean it was the right move.

“I shouldn’t have uhh… groped you like that.”

“It’s fine, Jaskier. It’s not the first time that’s happened.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay,” Jaskier presses. “No one should be touched without their consent. So I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t…” Geralt sighs. “Jaskier can you please look at me?”

Jaskier lifts his gaze and looks at Geralt. He doesn’t look upset or angry like he’d been expecting. The fond look is still there, along with something else. Something Jaskier isn’t used to seeing. Or maybe he is, and he just never let himself hope. 

“I’m not upset about what happened,” Geralt tells him. “So you can stop looking so guilty.” 

“But…”

“There’s coffee,” Geralt says, nodding his head towards the tiny kitchen.

Jaskier’s eyes drift past him to the kitchen. He doesn’t know how he missed the smell before. He moves towards it, as if drawn to the promise of warm, delicious caffeine. He turns to Geralt as he pours himself a cup. “You made me coffee?”

Geralt shrugs. “Coffee making you a functioning adult is still debatable. But you can function more with it than without it.”

Jaskier smiles and brings the cup up to his lips. “You made me coffee.”

Geralt sighs. “Don’t make a big deal of it.”

It is a big deal though. Before, Geralt had insisted that Jaskier make his own coffee, and anything else he needed. Jaskier had always made a point of making extra for Geralt though. But this is the first time Geralt has gone out of his way to do something without Jaskier asking.

He takes another drink and looks towards the sky. It’s a clear day and still early. They don’t have to be at the venue for hours. 

“We should go for a walk,” Jaskier suggests.

“A walk.”

“Yes, a walk. You know, the thing people do with their legs.”

“I know what walking is, Jaskier,” Geralt says. “I don’t understand why we’re doing it.”

“Because I want to explore,” Jaskier tells him. “We can even go to the aquarium!”

Geralt watches him for a moment, eyes narrowed in thought. Finally, he sighs. “Fine. We’ll go explore.”

Jaskier grins, “Great! And umm… maybe wear something a little less intimidating. You don’t want to scare the children.”

“Maybe I do.”

“Geralt.”

“Why do you have such issues with my wardrobe?”

“Because you walk around in suits,” Jaskier says. “Not that they don’t look good, but they look like you’re doing business instead of out enjoying the day.”

“I’m doing my job,” Geralt says. 

“And you can do it without looking so stuffy,” Jaskier tells him. “You do have clothes that aren’t suits, don’t you?”

“I do,” Geralt says. “Clearly. I don’t sleep in my suit.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know exactly what you meant,” Geralt says. “Just finish your coffee and grab something to eat so we can go.”

“Why Geralt, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you actually want to spend the day with me.”

“I don’t.”

“Sure,” Jaskier says, taking another sip of his coffee. “You made me coffee and you want to spend the day with me. You’re just full of surprises, Geralt.” Geralt shakes his head and walks to his room, leaving Jaskier to call after him. “I’m glad we’re spending the day together too, Geralt!”

“We spend every day together,” Geralt reminds him. “This isn’t any different.”

But it is. Geralt seems less tense as they walk through the aquarium. He’s still on alert, looking for threats. But he seems more relaxed as they look at the different animals. When Jaskier questions him, Geralt just shrugs, telling him he likes animals. 

“Thank god,” Jaskier says. “I can’t trust anyone that doesn’t like animals.”

“Animals are more trustworthy than humans,” Geralt says. 

Jaskier can’t deny that. He’s known some pretty shitty humans. “What’s your favorite? It doesn’t have to be here. Like, in general.”

“Horses,” Geralt says easily. “I had one as a boy. Roach. That horse was with me for a long time.”

“I’ve never been on a horse,” Jaskier says. “I’ve always wanted to learn to ride, but it’s never happened.”

“I could teach you,” Geralt offers.

Jaskier looks over at him in surprise. “Really?”

Geralt shrugs, “Why not? You can’t be any more annoying on a horse than you are off of one.”

Jaskier laughs. “You keep calling me annoying, but I think you secretly enjoy my company Geralt.”

“If that’s what you want to believe.”

“I do,” Jaskier says. He doesn’t think when he reaches over and grabs Geralt’s hand. “Come on. I want to look at the sea lions.” 

He knows he could easily drop it when they get closer, knowing that Geralt will follow. But he doesn’t. He keeps holding it as they walk along the glass, looking in at the sea lions. Then onto the next exhibit, and the next. And Geralt _lets_ him. He doesn’t try to pull away or complain. He just keeps holding his hand. When Jaskier chances a glance at him, it’s to see him smiling softly as he looks in at the penguins. He looks away before Geralt can catch him staring, not wanting to ruin the moment. He’s going to hold onto it as long as he can.

Maybe just maybe he hadn’t been wrong about the possibility of Geralt returning his feelings.

* * *

After that, something changes. Jaskier had spent so long struggling to find the perfect words to sing to Geralt, but after their trip to the aquarium he’s hit with a sudden spark of inspiration. Something just feels _right_ when he writes. It’s then he knows that this is the one. The other songs were good, but this is what he’s been waiting for.

And he has to play it. He knows that much. He can’t keep the song to himself. This one is too special for that.

Still, something is holding him back. Making him wait for the right moment. He keeps playing his shows, and enjoying every moment of it. When he’s not doing that he’s with Geralt and Ciri, though mostly Geralt. Which is a given since Geralt is his bodyguard, but it’s more than that. It has been for a while.

“Thank you Atlanta!” 

Jaskier grabs Adrienne and runs off the stage to where Ciri and Geralt are waiting, as usual. He hands his guitar to Ciri and takes the towel she offers and wipes his brow. 

“You killed it out there,” Ciri tells him with a grin. “As always.”

“Thanks,” Jaskier says. He drapes the towel around his shoulders and reaches for a bottle of water. “The crowd was awesome.”

“You bring it out of them,” Ciri says. “You just have that presence. Doesn’t he Geralt?”

Geralt shrugs. “Sure.”

Jaskier smiles and shakes his head. “I’ll take it.”

Yennefer approaches them, her own guitar on her hip. “Thanks for warming them up for me, Jaskier.” She doesn’t wait for a response before turning to Geralt. “You’re staying to watch me play, right Geralt?”

Geralt’s eyes move to Jaskier briefly before looking back at Yennefer. “I’m going wherever Jaskier is.”

“Of course,” Yennefer says. “We can’t have his little stalker getting their hands on him.”

“No we can’t,” Geralt says.

“Who would draw in the crowd without me, after all?” Jaskier asks.

Yennefer’s smile is all teeth. “Oh I don’t know, Jaskier. I think I do a pretty good job of that myself.”

“They love both of you,” Ciri says. “In fact, I had an idea I wanted to run by both of you later. After your set, Yen.”

“I can’t wait to hear it,” Yennefer says. Her smile is less sharp when directed at Ciri.

“It’s time,” Yennefer’s manager, Tissaia, calls over to her.

“Now let’s show them how it’s really done,” Yennefer smirks.

“I don’t know how any of us can breathe being in the same room with egos as large as yours and Yennefer’s,” Ciri teases.

“We’re not that bad,” Jaskier says.

“Oh please. If we hadn’t decided on the coin toss you both would argue every night about who deserved to play last. It would be a bloodbath.”

“We all know it’s me anyway,” Jaskier says.

“You’re both talented Jaskier,” Ciri says. “Just in different ways. Which is why I’ve been thinking…”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Jaskier mutters.

“But the crowd will,” Ciri says. “And that’s what matters right?”

He knows he’s walking into a trap with that one. But he still can’t hold himself back. “Of course.”

She smiles, “Good. Then I’m sure you’ll both love my idea for Orlando.”

Love might be an understatement. He knows Yennefer agrees from the look of barely concealed distaste on her face. But neither one wants to argue with Ciri.

Which is how they find themselves writing together for the first time. Jaskier expects it to go horribly. Then he can just tell Ciri that while the idea is good in theory, it’s just not plausible. 

They argue a lot while writing, over the lyric placement and who should sing what verse. But then something happens. Jaskier suggests they try playing the song all the way through and see what happens. It’s the only way they’re going to get anything done.

And it _works_. He even gets chills when they sing the chorus and their voices flow together. They have something special on their hands.

“Ciri is going to be so smug,” Jaskier sighs.

Yennefer laughs. “No doubt. But I’m strangely not mad about it. We have something great here.”

“We really do.”

Jaskier makes a decision to play the song he wrote for Geralt the same night he plays his song with Yennefer. If he’s going to do this, he might as well go all in. He’s still nervous though. Maybe more nervous than when he came out publicly. He knows Ciri and Geralt can sense his nerves. They keep watching him closely all day leading up to the show.

“Are you okay?” Ciri asks him after sound check in during their show in New York. “You seem… off.”

“I’m fine,” Jaskier assures her. “Just post show jitters, I guess.”

Ciri doesn’t seem convinced. “Are you sure? I’ve seen you nervous before playing, and this seems different.”

“I’m great,” Jaskier says. “I promise.” He looks around them, and satisfied they’re alone, leans in closure. “I wrote a new song.”

“Oh really?” Ciri asks, face curious. “What about?”

Jaskier steps back with a smile. “A special man.”

Ciri gives him a knowing look. “I see. And you’re sure this is the time to confess your undying love?”

“I’m just singing a song, Ciri. It’s not a proposal.”

“It might as well be,” Ciri says. “You do get awfully dramatic.”

He waves her off. She calls it dramatic. He calls it stage presence. Something he needs if he wants to keep drawing in crowds, or hope to woo Geralt tonight.

There’s a different energy in the air that night. Jaskier doesn’t understand it until he looks out into the crowd and his eyes land on Geralt. It’s the first time he’s been out there watching him rather than side stage. It’s not until he’s singing the words with Geralt there in front of him that he realizes just what they mean.

> _And now I do want you to know  
>  I'll hold you up above everyone  
> And I do want you to know  
> I think you'd be good to me  
> And I'd be so good to you_

They’re his words to Geralt. This whole time he’s been looking for the perfect song, and how he has it. Or well, one of them. But as he glances at Yennefer and sees she’s also found Geralt in the crowd, he knows it’s not just his song to Geralt. 

_“Just write about something you both care about,” Ciri had told him._

And they had apparently. Funny how the one thing they can agree on is Geralt.

Geralt, whose eyes are unwavering as they look at him. _Him_ and not Yennefer. At least that’s what Jaskier tells himself. He lets himself believe it all through the rest of his set, even after Geralt has disappeared. He’s just waiting backstage for him like he always is. That’s their thing now. Even if he can’t see him there with Ciri like he usually can. Geralt held his hand and made him coffee and likes spending time with him. There’s a thing between them, and Jaskier is really tired of denying it. 

Which is why he has to play this song tonight. He's going all in.

“So, I have another new song to play for you tonight,” Jaskier says, smiling at the cheer that erupts from the crowd. “It’s for a special guy. I hope he knows who he is, but this should make it obvious. I’m putting a lot on the line tonight, New York.” He laughs nervously and strums his guitar. “So this is called _Work In Progress_.”

> _I want to see you and I want to say  
>  "You're what's keeping me warm  
> You're what's keeping me safe"  
> Take my hands and keep them busy again  
> I think I'm losing my whole belief system  
> I get a lot of problems in my head sometimes  
> And I keep on forgetting  
> So take my hands and keep them busy again_

The crowd erupts into cheers at the end and Jaskier can’t keep the grin off his face. He barely makes it through the rest of his set, making sure to do the songs he would usually save for his encore so that he can focus on one thing. Finding Geralt and telling him how he feels. He’s buzzing with excitement as he leaves the stage. This is it. This is the moment. 

Geralt isn’t waiting with Ciri like he expects, but that’s fine. He has to be here somewhere. It’s not like Geralt can just leave. Maybe he just wants to talk somewhere more privately after hearing Jaskier’s song. That has to be it.

“Did you where Geralt went off to?” Jaskier asks, quickly drying off with the towel she hands him. “I need to talk to him.”

“He went towards the dressing rooms,” Ciri tells him. “But Jaskier…”

“Thanks Ciri!”

He runs off towards the dressing rooms, ignoring Ciri’s voice calling after him. He doesn’t have time to talk right now. He needs to find Geralt while he still has the nerve to. He takes a deep breath and opens the door to his dressing room, “Oh Geralt…”

He freezes in the doorway, smile falling from his face. Geralt is there, alright. But he’s not alone. Yennefer is there, body pressed close to Geralt’s, practically sitting on him, as she pins him to the table. Geralt’s hands are on her hips, and there’s a trail of red lipstick across his cheek and neck.

Jaskier backs towards the door, his heart heavy in his chest. “Sorry,” he whispers, unable to meet their eyes.

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice sounds gruff, and Jaskier really doesn’t want to think about why.

“I’ll just uhh…” he doesn’t finish his sentence before turning and fleeing the room. Geralt calls after him, telling him to stop, but Jaskier can’t. 

“Jaskier! Stop! Just listen! Jaskier!!!”

He needs to get as far away from here as possible. He needs air. That sounds good. Especially since he’s having a lot of trouble breathing right now. He throws open the backstage door, feeling the cool winter air bite into his skin. He doesn’t have his coat, but can’t be bothered to care. The sting feels good. It matches the pain he’s feeling in his chest, and the sting of tears against his eyes. He doesn’t bother wiping them away. No one else is here, and they’re a reminder to himself about what a fucking fool he’d been. 

“You’re so fucking stupid,” he mutters to himself.

“That’s true,” an unfamiliar voice says nearby. “Or else you wouldn’t have come out here alone, my pet.”

Jaskier stills, his blood going cold. He’d been so wrapped up in how hurt he is that he’d forgotten the reason Geralt was with him in the first place. His stalker. He turns and tries to run for the door, but doesn’t make it far before someone grabs him by his shirt and yanks him back. 

“Geralt!”

He groans at the sudden flash of pain in his head before his vision blurs. He tries to keep his eyes open. Tries to get away. He even makes it a few steps before the world spins and the ground grows closer. And closer.

* * *

Darkness is the first thing Jaskier is aware of when he comes around. He squints his eyes, trying to see through it but to no avail. It's enough to tell him there's likely no window wherever he is. But there has to be a door somewhere. If he can just find it. 

He tries to stand only to be hit by a jolt of pain in his head so bad it makes him dizzy and has him crying out as he sinks back to the floor. 

Shit. 

He's not going to be able to do much if he can't even move. 

"Come on," he whispers. "Find me."

Laughter rings out from somewhere nearby, and Jaskier tenses.

"No one is coming for you." The voice echoes off the walls, sending a chill through Jaskier that has nothing to do with the cold of the room. "No one. Not your manager. Or that bodyguard you've been spending so much time with. He doesn't care about you, Jaskier. He doesn't love you. He's probably happy you're gone."

Jaskier averts his eyes to the ground, trying to ignore the sting of tears against them. He won't let them fall. He can't. He has to be stronger than that if he wants to survive this. 

Whoever his kidnapper is, they're wrong. Someone will come for him. Geralt will. He… they're friends. Sure, he might not love him the way Jaskier loves him. But he cares. 

A voice in the back of his mind wonders if that's true. If he'd imagined him caring the same way he'd talked himself into believing there was something between them. 

But no. Geralt had sounded different when he'd called for him. An unfamiliar emotion in his voice that he'd probably think on more if he wasn't in danger.

Because he is. There might not be any immediate threats on his life right now, but he's seen enough movies to know how dangerous stalkers like this can be. Especially when they're not getting their way. 

“What do you want?” Jaskier asks. He’s afraid of the answer, but he needs to know just how bad his situation is.

“Oh my dear Jaskier,” the voice says. “All I want is _you_.”

“Why? Why me?”

“Because you were the first person to break my heart. You thought you could just leave me like that. But that’s not the way it works. You’re _mine_.”

Jaskier goes cold. Of course this would be one of his scorned lovers. Music fills the air, and he wants to laugh when it’s one of his songs. 

“Who are you?” Jaskier asks into the darkness. Maybe if he can put a face and a name to his kidnapper it can tell him just how dangerous they are. If there’s any chance of talking his way out of this.

“You really don’t remember me?” they ask. Jaskier flinches back at the sudden bright light entering the room and blinding him. He can see a figure standing in the doorway and squints, trying to make out a face. 

Even when his eyes focus, he still can’t remember. He recognizes the face, sure. But he had a string of lovers back before the whole stalker thing. It got harder for him to remember their names. If they ever bothered to tell him.

Still, it’s better if Jaskier tries to play it off as if he does remember. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Yes,” she says, stepping further into the room. “It’s me. Now tell me, how could you just leave like that? After our special night together?”

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” Jaskier says. “I was… well I wasn’t my best self back then. When we met at umm…”

“At a bar after your set,” she finishes. She narrows her eyes as she steps up to him. It’s then that Jaskier notices the knife in her hand. “You don’t remember, do you?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then what’s my name?”

Shit. He’d been foolishly hoping she wouldn’t ask. But of course she would. She’s determined to prove what a horrible person he is. “It’s uhh…”

She brings the knife up and uses it to lift his chin. “It’s Mary.”

“Right,” Jaskier says, trying to stay as still as possible. “Mary.”

“I can promise you that you won’t ever forget it again,” she says, running the blade down his neck. There’s no pressure, but Jaskier still holds his breath, not wanting to risk it.

He’s definitely not going to forget this, whether he wants to or not.

“Get up,” Mary says, stepping back.

“What?”

“ _Get_ up,” she insists.

“I can’t,” Jaskier tells her. “My head. It…”

“I don’t care,” she says. “You’re going to stand up, and dance with me, Jaskier.”

The knife presses harder against his throat and Jaskier flinches. “Okay. Okay.”

She steps back further, but keeps the knife pointed at him. Jaskier winces as he gets to his feet. The pain is still there, but not as sudden and sharp as before. 

“There we go,” she smiles, stepping into his space and putting her arms around his neck. “Now hold me, Jaskier. Like you mean it. I’ll know if you don’t.”

Jaskier takes a shuddering breath and puts his hands on her hips. It feels wrong. Everything about this is wrong. The fact that the song she has playing is still one of his makes it worse. 

> _Invitation only grant farewells  
>  Crash the best one of the best ones  
> Clear liquor and cloudy eyed  
> Too early to say goodnight  
> You have stolen my heart  
> You have stolen my heart_

He’s never going to be able to play this song live again. 

Her warm breath fans across his skin and he barely represses a shudder when he feels her lips against his ear. “Is this what it was like dancing with him, Jaskier?”

“No,” the word comes out before he can stop it. 

All she does is hum. “Because you love him,” she says. When he doesn’t answer, he feels the blade back against his skin. “Tell me the truth.”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

Jaskier has to close his eyes against the sting of tears. He’s been doing so well. This isn’t going to be what breaks him. “I love him.”

“And he hurt you,” she murmurs. “Didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Like you hurt me,” she muses. “But it’s okay Jaskier. I won’t hurt you like that. And one day, you will come to love me. You’ll see.”

It hits him suddenly then. She’s never going to let him go. And if no one knows where to look for him then he will be stuck here. Unless…

Jaskier’s hands move to her back and pull her closer. “I could,” he whispers. “Maybe I need a reminder of what we had.”

“Of course,” she says and smiles. “I knew you would come around.”

Jaskier does his best not to tense when she kisses him. It feels wrong. But he doesn’t need to enjoy it. He just needs her distracted. His hand moves up to tangle in her hair and she gasps against his lips. 

He tells himself it’ll be over soon, one way or another. The hand not in her hair moves down to cover hers, and there it is. The knife. He reaches for it, relieved when she seems too distracted to care. At least until he steps back and presses the knife against her chest.

“You’re going to let me out of here,” he tells her.

“No,” She snarls. “I’m not. You’re _mine.”_

She lunges for him and he stumbles back towards the wall. He hears her gasp and something wet and sticky coats his fingers. There are hands around his throat suddenly and his head hits the wall behind him hard as he tries to jerk away.

He tries to shove her off, but the pain in his head is suddenly too much. His vision blurs and for a moment he thinks he sees golden eyes looking at him.

“Geralt.” The word is barely more than a mumble he forces past his lips. 

He must be dying, because he can swear he hears Geralt’s voice close by. But that can’t be right. His mind must be supplying him with what it thinks he needs before he goes off into the darkness. 

He feels hands on his face and frowns. He knows those hands.

"Julian. Julian. Open your eyes."

 _Geralt_. Either he’s here or his hallucination is a lot more realistic that he thought.

"I didn't think you knew my real name," Jaskier mumbles, peeking his eyes open. 

Geralt is there above him, a look Jaskier hasn't seen before on his face. "Of course I do. I know more than you think."

"Are you really here?" 

"I am," Geralt says. "I'm here. You're safe now."

Jaskier smiles. His head is feeling light and cloudy. "I think I'm dying."

"No, you're not." A hand grips his shoulder firmly and shakes him. "You are not dying on me."

"Then you wouldn't get paid."

"That's not…" There's a huff of annoyance before Geralt's face swims into view again. "That's not what I care about."

"You care about me?"

"I do," Geralt says. "Of course I do. The ambulance is close, so just stay awake for me, alright?"

"You know I'd do anything for you," Jaskier mumbles. "But my head is heavy."

“You might have a concussion or… or a brain bleed,” Geralt tells him. “That’s why you need to stay awake.”

“Don’t leave me,” Jaskier pleads. “Please. Just…”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Geralt assures him. “I’ll be right here.”

“The woman,” Jaskier mumbles, suddenly remembering the reason he’s here. “Mary. She…”

“Dead,” Geralt tells him.

“I stabbed her,” Jaskier says. “She came for me and I…”

“It wasn’t you,” Geralt tells him. “I came in and she was trying to kill you. I shot her.”

“You saved me.”

“You scared me,” Geralt says. “When you ran off and then I couldn’t find you. I… God Jaskier I never would have forgiven myself if something happened to you.”

“I’m the one that ran off,” Jaskier sighs. “I was so stupid.”

“Jaskier…”

They both freeze at the sound of sirens coming their way. “The ambulance is here,” Geralt says.

“And I’m still awake,” Jaskier says, doing his best to smile. “Or am I? It’s hard to tell.”

“Are you in pain?”

“I feel like my head is being split open in at least fifteen places,” Jaskier says. “So yeah, I’m in pain.”

“Then you’re awake. You wouldn’t be in that much pain if you weren’t.”

When the paramedics come in, Geralt steps back and addresses them. “He’s hit his head. He was out of it when I came in, but seems a little more coherent now.”

The paramedics come over and start checking him over. He tries to focus and answer their questions, knowing they’re probably important, but his gaze keeps drifting to Geralt. He complains a bit when they insist on putting him on a stretcher, but Geralt just rolls his eyes.

“The last thing we need is you doing more damage to yourself, so just do as you’re told.”

“Fine,” Jaskier pouts. He glares at Geralt from the stretcher. “But you’re riding with me in the ambulance.”

“As your bodyguard, it is my job to stay with you,” Geralt says.

Jaskier has to wonder how much longer that will be true. 

* * *

The danger is gone. His stalker is dead. He has no reason to be afraid. He should be happy. And he is, for the most part. The hospital had cleared him a few hours ago, and now all he wants to do is get back on the road. 

Something Ciri does not seem impressed with. “You just got out of the hospital,” she reminds him. Not that he needs it. “You went through something traumatic. Are you sure you really want to be out there playing shows?”

“Yes,” Jaskier says. “I know what I’ve been through. I was there. And that’s exactly why I need to play shows. I need to prove to myself and everyone else that I still can. That I’m not going to let one psycho keep me down. It’s where I feel most alive, Ciri. I need this.”

“Okay,” Ciri says. “The next show isn’t for another few days in Chicago, so that’ll give you some time to rest at least.”

He doesn’t see Geralt for the few days leading up to his first show back. He hasn’t seen him since the hospital, in fact. When he’d left Jaskier with the doctors and told him he’d be okay. Jaskier had hoped he’d be there when he woke up, but he hadn’t been. And he hadn’t come to visit either.

Jaskier wishes it didn’t sting as much as it does. But despite his best efforts his feelings for Geralt are still there. Even though it’s become pretty clear Geralt doesn’t feel the same way. He saved him, sure. But his job was to keep him safe.

Now the threat is gone. Of course Geralt wouldn’t want to stick around. He’s probably off with Yennefer anyway.

The thought makes his stomach sick. He sighs and leans back against his pillows. He can’t go on like this. His heart is broken but he can’t keep moping. He has to do something about it. So he does what he always does, he writes.

“It’s nice to see you back,” Yennefer says when he shows up at the venue for sound check. “We were so worried about you. Especially poor Geralt. He was beside himself with worry.”

“And I’m sure you did your best to comfort him,” Jaskier mutters.

Yennefer tilts her head and studies him. “Oh. You don’t know then?”

“Know what?”

“Oh nothing,” she smiles and gets to her feet. “I’m sure you’ll find out sooner or later.”

He brushes off her comments. He doesn’t have it in him to think about them right now. Whatever game she’s playing he doesn’t want to be part of it. He needs his focus. So he grabs Adrienne and heads out onto the stage. Even with the venue mostly empty right now he still feels calmer here than he has anywhere else the past week. 

He sits down and takes a deep breath, letting his fingers do their thing. He plays a bit of his new song first, wanting to hear how it sounds here. 

“Are you sure you want to play the stripped down version?” Ciri asks him.

Jaskier glances at her, “Positive.”

He knows how much she likes the more upbeat version he’d worked on, but the acoustic version gives it a whole different meaning. And that’s the one he wants to convey tonight.

Being back on stage feels a lot like coming home. Everything else falls away. It’s just him, his music, and the crowd. 

“So this seems to be a theme this tour, but I have a new song,” Jaskier says, grinning out at the crowd. “Would you like to hear it?”

There’s a loud cheer and Jaskier laughs. “Okay, you convinced me. I’ll play it. It’s umm… it’s pretty personal. You see, I recently got my heart broken. I fell for someone and was sure they felt the same way. It didn’t quite work out the way I hoped. So here we are. This would be one of those songs where people pull out their lighters, but apparently that’s a fire hazard now. So if you’d all just raise those devices you’ve been pointing my way all night. Let’s light up the room.”

He starts strumming the guitar, his voice flowing out across the room. A quite falls across the crowd as he plays as Jaskier plays. He’s never felt such a connection to a crowd as he does in this moment. It’s an amazing feeling. One he wants to bask in forever.

> _Jealousy, turning saints into the sea  
>  Swimming through sick lullabies  
> Choking on your alibis  
> But it's just the price I pay  
> Destiny is calling me  
> Open up my eager eyes  
> 'Cause I'm Mr. Brightside_

It’s freeing, in a way, to have the words out there. Even if Geralt isn’t here to hear them. 

Ciri smiles when he leaves the stage, and pulls him in for a tight hug. “Okay. You were right about the acoustic.”

“Of course I was,” Jaskier says, smiling down at her.

“I’m serious,” Ciri says. “I got chills. The way the crowd just watched you. No one talked, which is incredible. They were completely enamored by you. I think you have another hit on your hands, Jules.”

“Thanks Ciri,” Jaskier says. “I just wish…”

The sound of someone tapping a microphone has them both turning. Jaskier gasps when he sees who’s standing on stage. “Oh my god,” he whispers, looking out at Geralt. “Was he here the whole time?”

“Of course he was,” Ciri says. “He didn’t want to miss your first show back. He’s just an idiot who doesn’t know how to say hello and that he misses you.”

“Maybe because he doesn’t,” Jaskier mutters.

“Do you really think he would be out there if he didn’t?” Yennefer asks him.

“This is for someone I love,” Geralt is saying. “He once caught me singing this song in our hotel room and teased me mercilessly about it until I threatened to break his guitar.” There’s a gasp from the audience and Geralt laughs. “I wouldn’t have done it. He knows that. But I don’t think he knows just how important he is, and that’s mostly my fault. Hopefully getting up here and making a fool of myself will help with that.”

“Is he really doing this?” Jaskier whispers to Ciri.

She nods, “He is.”

Once the first notes of the song sound, Jaskier is even more shocked. He really is doing this. For him. There’s no doubt in his mind. Especially not when Geralt looks his way and raises an eyebrow. Jaskier doesn’t even think before rushing onto the stage and grabbing the second microphone. He grins and joins in with Geralt on the chorus.

> _I'm a bitch, I'm a tease  
>  I'm a goddess on my knees  
> When you hurt, when you suffer  
> I'm your angel undercover  
> I've been numb, I'm revived  
> Can't say I'm not alive  
> You know I wouldn't want it any other way_

Singing with Geralt isn’t anything he ever thought would happen. But here he is, and Geralt is _smiling_ , wide and bright as he looks at him. 

When they’re done, Jaskier barely has time to thank the crowd one last time before Geralt is pulling him off the stage and down the hall to his dressing room. He closes the door and turns to face Jaskier. Now that they’re alone, he looks a little less sure.

“I’m sorry,” Geralt tells him.

“What for?”

“Everything. Hurting you, and then being too consumed in my guilt to come visit you in the hospital.”

“Why would you feel guilty?” Jaskier asks, stepping closer.

“Because it was on me to keep you safe,” Geralt says. “Not just as your bodyguard but as your… as someone I…”

“Love?” 

Geralt nods stiffly, “Yes.”

“But Yennefer…”

“Is a friend,” Geralt says. “She’s lovely, but she’s not you.”

“Oh.”

Suddenly words seem to leave him. Everything he’s wanted to say to Geralt gets lost in his muddled up brain. Geralt is here, telling him that he loves him. And Jaskier… well he’s not about to let this moment pass.

“I want to do this right this time,” Jaskier tells him. “Last time I kissed you I was drunk and didn’t even ask if you wanted it. So…”

“Just get over here.”

Geralt pulls him in, their lips meeting in a surprisingly soft kiss. “I liked your song,” Geralt murmurs against his lips. “Both of them.”

“Hmm well good,” Jaskier says. “They were for you.”

He kisses Geralt again, just because he can. He doesn’t have to hold himself back, or worry about being rejected. Geralt is here because he wants to be. He loves him. And…

Jaskier pulls back with a gasp. “Oh god.”

“What?” Geralt asks, looking around in alarm. “What is it?”

“I just forgot to tell you,” Jaskier says, doing his best to keep his face serious. “I love you too.”

Geralt shakes his head, an amused smile on his lips. “Things with you are never going to be boring.”

“Nope. And you like that.”

“God help me, I do.”

“Do you love me enough to take me to dinner?”

“It’s always food with you, isn’t it?”

“Playing is tiring,” Jaskier says. “I need to keep my energy up, don’t you think?”

Geralt studies him for a moment before leaning in and kissing him firmly. Jaskier hums and pulls him closer. He runs a hand through Geralt’s hair and smiles. “It’s as soft as I imagined it would be.”

“You imagined touching my hair?”

Jaskier shrugs, “Yeah. I imagined a lot of things.”

“Hmm. You’ll have to tell me about it later.”

“Or I could show you.”

“I thought you wanted to eat,” Geralt says, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh Geralt,” Jaskier says. “I can do both.” He laughs when Geralt’s brow furrows, probably trying to imagine how. He pulls him back in for another longer, deeper kiss. One thing is already certain: he’s never going to tire of kissing Geralt.

“Tell me I’m pretty,” Jaskier says when they pull back.

“Pretty fucking annoying. That’s what you are.”

Jaskier chuckles and steps further into Geralt’s space. “Hmm that’s not going to work anymore, Geralt. Not when I know you love me.”

“I can love you and still find you annoying,” Geralt tells him.

“Are you two being gross in there?” Ciri calls through the door.

“If by gross you mean ridiculously in love, then yes,” Jaskier calls back.

“Well are you almost done? I’m starving and not about to take an Uber because you two can’t keep your hands off each other.”

“Coming,” Geralt tells her.

“Not yet,” Jaskier says, nipping teasingly at Geralt’s jaw. “But soon.”

“Behave,” Geralt says warningly.

“Always.”

“Hmm.”

“I think you’ll find you’re going to like me misbehaving,” Jaskier smirks.

“Julian.”

“Oh you’re using my real name, now we’re getting serious.”

Geralt gently nudges him back so that he can step away from the door, “We’ll talk about all that later.”

“The serious or the misbehaving?”

“Both.”

“Something to look forward to.”

* * *

As enjoyable as their evening is, Jaskier still wakes up in a cold sweat that night. It’s something that’s been happening a lot ever since he got kidnapped. He doesn’t except it to stop anytime soon. But unlike the other times, strong arms wrap around him and pulls him back into a solid chest. He relaxes into the hold as Geralt kisses the side of his head and whispers his reassurances to him: “You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Jaskier turns in his hold and presses his face against his neck. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, letting Geralt’s words wash over him.

It’s always better in the daytime, when he’s awake and can distract himself. It’s at night when he closes his eyes that it all catches up to him. 

But slowly, with Geralt and Ciri’s help he’s able to chase away the nightmares. To find some peace. It’s not going to instantly be better. He knows that. But he’s not alone, and that’s all the reassurance he needs.

One month later Jaskier steps onto the stage in London and feels the energy from the crowd course through him like it always does. But this is different. It’s home. There’s always something special about playing in the city it all started for him, even if the venue and crowd has changed over the years. He’s changed too, but the love he has for playing is still the same.

“Hello London,” he says into his mic. “It’s good to be home. I have a cover I want to play for you tonight,” Jaskier tells them. “It’s for someone special. He knows who he is.”

He strums his guitar and starts singing, his eyes move over to where Geralt is standing with Ciri. Not as his bodyguard anymore, but as his boyfriend. Geralt smiles and gives him a thumbs up, and Jaskier grins into the microphone. 

The past month has been one of the best of his life. Which Ciri likes to tell him is a bit dramatic like all things he does, but he doesn’t care. It’s true. His career is soaring. He feels safe again. He has the best boyfriend ever (even if they still drive each other crazy sometimes), and the best friends. He’s happy. That sounds pretty damn good to him.

> _You live you learn, you love you learn  
>  You cry you learn, you lose you learn  
> You bleed you learn, you scream you learn  
> You grieve you learn, you choke you learn  
> You laugh you learn, you choose you learn  
> You pray you learn, you ask you learn  
> You live you learn_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos/comments make my day 💜  
> [My tumblr](http://tabbytabbytabby.tumblr.com/)


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